La Marionetta
by trononaut
Summary: One of his hand came up, winding in her dark hair, pulled her back. "No. You will not play Renata tonight." Marcus/Renata.


"Master."

The single word breaks him of his thoughts, turning quickly; angered at the one that would dare approach without alerting his superior senses. Teeth bared, he turns to find that it is _her_, that she is standing there, hand resting on the framework of the great doors that lead to their library. She looks to so small and insignificant, it is hard for him to keep that expression any longer. Not at she, the one looking at him with _that_ face. Her ashen lips were pressed thin, a dark smudge against her flawless porcelain skin. Her jaw was taunt, and with his eyes he traced it; up her cheek bones to meet her eyes. They were black, not the bright scarlet color that signified satisfaction of a meal. It was common he found, that her eyes were nearly always black. She merely stood there and let him watch her, before speaking once more.

"Master."

He breathed in. She smelled ordinary, like the fragrance so many of the females of Volterra enjoyed wearing. It wafted thickly, almost as if she had bathed in it. Perhaps she had. He never knew what she was thinking. No one did. Save of course for Aro. But he enjoyed dallying with a vampiress of a different sort. Her lips no longer pressed together she seemed to be taking in a breath of her own, and wider when she was about to speak again. But he cut her off.

"Renata," Marcus answered, "What are you doing here?"

She took this as her invitation to intrude, grazing her hand softly across a dust covered table mounted high with books no one had read in over a century. She did not answer him right away, taking her time. Pushing her boundaries. He was not as harsh as Caius, or Aro when he wanted to be. She knew this. Perhaps this is why she came to him so often. Examining the dust, she rubbed her fingers together and the powder disapperated. "Sulpicia sent me away." Her tone was so bitter it would put a lemon to shame.

So that was why she was here. "Why not wait for him in his study?"

"Where else do you think they are?" Those black eyes narrowed, staring at him in what could have passed as a glare, if it were not the look of longing that followed so shortly after it. "Their companionship disgusts me."

He laughed. It was short, a single 'HA', that echoed off the marble floor that startled the both of them, look of longing changed to a combonation of fear, confusion. "Did you think he would fufill his fantasy elsewhere? With you perhaps?" The anger returned. "Never!" she lied, voice like a hoarse whisper. "I would never desire such a thing from my master." He laughed again, this time more harsh, more prolonged. "You cannot lie to me, _marionetta_. I see it. You desire nothing more than to have him look at you as he does Sulpicia," he taunted. "Oh...and he knows it too, doesn't he?" He did not need her defiant break in their gaze as she turned to tell him that he was right. She reached out, plucking a book off of the table, her notrils flaring as she flipped through it.

It was then that Marcus saw it, the ribbon. Black, like pitch, wrapped around her wrist, encasing the delicate quivering fingers. It hung down, making a trail leading out the door, disappearing out of site in the northward direction. To Aro's study.

Marcus found it difficult to describe his ability. He could see the ties between two people. Any two people. Empathy it was not. It was a sight. "He knows," Marcus sighed, "and does nothing..."

Silence.

The ribbons (for it was not one he realized now, but many) quivered, and he followed them up her arms to find that she herself was shaking, wracked by silent, tearless sobs. The book, a black hardbacked thing who'd seen better days slipped through her fingers, falling to the floor in a dull thump, spine cracked open painfully to a page barely hanging on. Renata didn't care she just dropped her hands to her sides and her shoulders hung defeatedly. He did not like the tight feeling at the back of his throat. "Are you crying?"

"No, Master." She dropped her head, dark hair spilling over her shoulder to hide her face from him. "Do not lie to me, _marionetta_."

"Yes, Master." She mumbled, but did not lift her head.

"Look at me."

She did not lift her head. Striding forward, his hand reached out, gripping her firmly by the chin. "I said look at me." The expression on her face now was purely forlorn. They could not shed tears. Sobbing without tears. She looked ridiculous. "Weak." He hissed. She still didn't meet his eyes. So he slapped her.

And was supremely surprised when it hit. Hard. Renata went sprawling, falling to the floor. He could not see her face, that lovely hair that had spilled over her cheek became a dark veil, protecting her from his gaze that had turned almost murderous. "Get up," he demanded. "Get up and face your master."

"Yes, _padrone._" was the quiet reply. She pressed herself upwards off the floor, resting on her knees a moment before moving to stand before he stopped her again. "Do not move." She immediately halted, looking up at him, quirking her eyebrow. Those delicate hands so wrapped in black ribbon rested limply at her sides. "You do not use your gift?"

"I would be punished for acting against my masters."

"And if I punish you for _not_ acting against your master?"

"Will you?"

If he was still human, if he could have still _felt_, he would have shivered. She almost sounded hopeful, looking up at him with those black eyes. The smallest hint of a smirk graced his lips. "Do you _want_ me to punish you, Renata?"

"Master Caius enjoys it."

"That is not what I asked you."

"You asked me if I desire to be punished."

"Correct."

"Will it please you?"

What kind of question was that? He furrowed his brow, unsure of how to answer such a question. Not that it mattered, she was below him. He did not need her approval for any answer he would give. But...it bothered him. Slowly, he reach a hand out, to her face. She did not flinch as he traced her chin with his fingers, scraping the back of his nails across her solid cheek, feeling the rock hair bones beneath them. Such a soft action confused her clearly. "Master?" she asked.

He did not answer, merely continued to stroke her cheek. She was a pitiful creature. Grown so accustomed to the whims of her masters; Aro's childlike neglect, and Caius's cruel violence, Renata had lost herself. She had been the easiest to break and become nothing more than a hollow shell of her former self. He remembered. It was not so easy to remember such things after such a long time...and often it bored him so. But she was indeed different. She'd been turned by an unknown, a drifting vampire which no name she remembered. She had been docile when she'd been brought before them. A member of a wandering coven that had all been eradicated. But not she. She had walked away from harm, rumored that any who aproached her merely turned the other way. It was a wonderful power, Aro had thought. He'd wanted to test it immediately. Jane had been more than willing to help then, sending her to her knees and howling at the pain. Didyme had been alive then, tightening her grip on her mate's arm she'd pleaded for them to stop. She'd run to Renata, throwing herself around her. He and Aro had stood at the same time, demanding that Jane stop.

Those silent tears again. Renata cried often.

Perhaps it had just been he who had changed.

"How are you going to punish me, Master?"

"I'm not."

"Sorry?"

She was displeased with this answer, clearly. Shifting her weight from one knee to the other Renata worried her lower lip. "I will not punish you. You want me to, this much is clear. It will be punishment enough."

Marcus turned, leaving her kneeling in the middle of the library. Was about out the door, making sure he avoided stepping upon those dark ribbons when he heard her voice again. "He laughs at you, you know."

He turned on his heel to look at her once more. "Who?"

"Master Caius. Master Aro sometimes. They call you _fantoccio_ and _guscio_."

"I am no one's puppet."

"Have you looked at your own ties lately, _padrone_?"

He should have been ashamed of himself, believing what she said. He was of the Volturi, he was her master. But look he did still, and was most horrified to find himself in the same situation as she, dark ribbons of his overlapping her own.

She rose on her own accord, walking over to him. Renata was much more petite than he, pressing in close to him, pushing his hands aside. Her dark eyes met his again, with the most sincere expression yet. "It only makes you weak when you admit it to yourself, master."

He frowned. "Why are you here, Renata?"

"I wanted companionship, Master."

He said nothing. He did nothing. Not as she slowly stood on her tip toes, pressing those thin, cold lips against his. He did not return it, but grabbed her by the shoulders, holding her away. "You are not _her._"

"And you are not Aro."

He kissed her then, forcefully. Their teeth clacked together as she reliquished control to him almost immediately. One of his hand came up, winding in her dark hair, pulled her back. "No. You will not play Renata tonight."

"But Mast-"

"Marcus."

Realization washed over her then. Nodding despite his a smile graced her features, something he'd never seen her wear. "Marcus." she repeated. This time when he kissed her she responded eagerly, her hands lifting to either size of his face, to pulling him closer to her. Walking her backwards he pressed her against the wall, his hand coming loose from her hair to join the other already exploring under the black black dress she wore. It had been pushed up around her waist exposing the black lace undergarment that covered her sex, as well as the garter belt that held up the grey stockings so close to the transluscent color of her skin. She groaned in appreciation as his hand drifted along her inner thigh. "Are you this ready to fall apart for me, _marionetta?_" he taunted, breaking their kiss to nip at her neck a little harder that what could be considered playful.

"Always, my love." was her reminder to him. She was not his puppet, her strings were attached to someone else. Didyme's were not. And...for tonight she would be his Didyme. He pulled back to look at her once more, the smile still upon her face as the pad of her thumb swiped over his lips. "Take me."

And he did. Right there against the wall. It wasn't gentle, or romantic, but she played her part beautifully, gracefully. It was a mockery of copulation. Neither of them reached climax, they were dead. Nothing was exchanged. He just stopped suddenly and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him forward to kiss his cheek, whispering "I love you." He stepped away, setting himself in order, as she slid to the floor in complete disarray. "Next time...bother someone else with your pitiful wiles when Aro refuses to touch you."

He left the room, Renata still laying in a heap. "Yes, Master." she muttered.

It was midday when the Cullen Boy came. Aro was completely amazed by him, walking in circles like a predatory child, his precious guard lining the walls, attentive on the one with the yellow eyes. He did not feel like sitting there, instead standing off to the side, watching. Caius walked in, standing beside him, followed by both Athenadora and Sulpicia. Renata walked in behind them quietly, her head bowed and hands folded one over the other.

He watched them make their way to their accustomed corner, and her dutiful following. It was Caius' comment that brought him out of his thoughts, wrinkling his nose. "You smell awful. Have you taken to wearing women's fragrance now, brother?"

"Brothers!" Aro interrupted, clapping his hands together happily, "Today is a joyus day!"


End file.
